The Middle Ground
by The Less You See
Summary: Last in the Lies trilogy. Odin had to make the decision. He couldn't not. He had to set the example, even if it meant killing one of his sons. He made the right decision, the only decision. But to watch his son die...could he really go through with it?


Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers, but after this story I really wish I did. (Having made myself tear up at these three stories, I think I've kind of earned it) But I don't own. Sadly, Joss Whedon does. All props to him for making the movie we all know, love, and adore.

I never thought I would be burying one of my sons.

I had always hoped that I would have grown so old that I died happily with my family by my side. I would have passed on the Kingship to my firstborn, Thor. I would have reconciled with my adopted son, Loki. I would have loved my wife to my last breath.

But, unforeseen circumstances developed and it was not me being laid across a palate of wood looking as if I were only sleeping, completely at peace with the world.

It was my son, my child, one of my two pride and joys.

Loki Odinson.

The God of Lies and Tricksters and Chaos and Disorder.

He had died.

And I was the one that killed him.

Loki was brought back to Asgard with his brother Thor behind him. He stood proud with his head held high, never flinching, never wavering. That was the son that I didn't remember.

I remembered a little boy who was always smiling shyly. He was always curious, never stopped asking questions. He was a brilliant boy, a genius in fact. He was so smart, I had almost no idea how to deal with him.

While I don't underestimate my own intelligence, I freely admit that Loki was one of the fair few who bested me in that respect and he was only a boy.

He was also amazingly skilled at magick, something that not many Asgardians can make an actual claim too. It was also something that I had no idea what to do with. His magick was powerful and only further cemented his title of God of Mischief. He used his magick for both good and bad. He was constantly cleaning up after Thor and the messes he made with Mjolnir, but he also was almost always the source of all the pranks played on the servants, the guards and the other children.

I was always proud of my son.

I just didn't know how to express my feelings for him.

Thor was a different story though.

Thor always excelled at the physical side of things instead of the mental. He was always out in the training grounds practicing with Mjolnir and mock fighting with his companions. I always praised him because I actually knew what I was talking about.

With Loki, I was…confused.

Magick was never my forte as I have said before.

When they both came back, standing before me like they had done so many times as children, it brought back so many memories. It took me several moments, but I finally came back to the present.

Myself and the council began deliberating Loki's punishment after we had announced every one of his crimes.

I watched my sons stand before me, never moving, as we took hours deciding a suitable punishment.

The only one we could find was death.

And so, after three and a half hours, we presented him with the news.

The guards forced him to his knees and I rose.

My staff hit the ground with resounding finality as I said the words, "Loki, as punishment for your crimes on both Midgard and Asgard, your fate shall be death by hanging."

And I turned and walked away, never seeing my second son rise, only to collapse in shock against his older brother.

Something he hadn't done in front of me since he was four years old.

Two days later, I stood behind both of my sons on the platform where the punishment was to be carried out.

I stood where one of my sons would die in just a few mere moments.

We all waited through the insults and jeers that were directed at Loki by the remainder of the citizens of Asgard.

We waited for the dreadful moment when the clock would strike six and it would be time for this horrible sentence to be carried out.

All too soon, we heard it.

Six strong tones.

All resonating throughout the town's center.

Everyone paused, only a few whispers raced through the crowd.

All too unwillingly, I said, "We all have gathered here today, at this hour of twilight, for one reason. To see the punishment of Loki Laufeyson, traitor to Asgard, delivered."

Thor flinched, Loki didn't.

"His punishment for all his heinous crimes can be no less than death."

Loki still refused to give into his emotions.

"For all the shame he has brought upon Asgard and you, it's citizens."

Still no reaction.

"And for the dishonour and disappointment he has brought upon his adopted brother Thor and upon me his adopted father." I said, finishing my speech.

At this he flinched.

Horribly.

He looked up at Thor, reminding me for all the world, of the little boy he used to be. Always looking to his older brother for answers.

"Loki Laufeyson, do you understand the reasons you are to be submitted to this punishment?" I asked, not out of formality as so many perceived it, but out of curiosity for my son's mental wellbeing.

He didn't answer verbally, only nodding.

"Speak, child." I ordered, slightly annoyed.

"I do." He answered quietly, but with a certain determination.

"Then you accept this punishment as your own for the crimes you know you have committed." I said, not entirely expecting an answer.

He gave one anyway. "I do."

"Very well then," I said wearily, unfortunately having come to the final conclusion of the day, "Loki Laufeyson, step forward."

He did as I commanded and stood on the platform in front of the executioner. He remained calm and collected as the noose slipped down on his neck and tightened.

He turned to look out over the crowd, but his eyes quickly moved to meet his brother's. He stayed that way in the final moments. And as my role as the King and the one who confirmed the sentence, I was the one who had to pull the lever. The one who had to kill Loki, my son.

I hated myself for it.

Then and now, but it still had to be done.

I had to set an example.

And so I pulled the lever.

The platform fell immediately away from his feet and I heard his neck snap from the force of the fall and the stress put onto it from the weight of his body. The crack that resulted echoed through the square and will forever be ingrained into my memory until my dying day.

I couldn't see Loki's face and in a sick sort of way, I was very glad that I couldn't.

I honestly don't think that I could have held onto my composure if I saw the sadness that was surely to be gracing his handsome face, even in death.

Thor called out to me, "Please, father! Do not do this! Loki may be a criminal, but he is still your son. He only did this so you would acknowledge him! It's not completely his fault!"

But I couldn't back down.

I said no.

It only took a moment after the act itself, the one moment that it took Thor to get his wits about him, he cried out, "No. NO!" Then he rushed over to his brother's still hanging body.

Thor tore the noose from around Loki's neck and held him tenderly, almost reverently as he gently lowered him to the ground.

Both of my sons began to talk softly. I couldn't make out the words, but I knew that they were only meant for their ears, so I didn't strain to hear them.

I couldn't hear what was said until Thor said, "Just like father. You still love him as well, don't you?"

"I do." Loki sighed, obviously not thinking me to still be here, "I never stopped to be honest. I was just so angry that he never seemed to care. I didn't care what kind, but I just craved some sort of attention, any sort of acceptance. I got that though, didn't I? Attention as a traitor and a villain. Acceptance as a failure and a resounding disappointment."

What?

"He loved you Loki."

Of course I did.

"You may have thought so, brother, but I certainly never saw it."

Because I was too afraid to learn how.

"I love you Loki. I always have and I always will."

Of course, Thor never stopped.

"I love you too, brother, forever and always."

And neither did Loki.

Thor broke down into tears as the wood in Loki's funeral pyre was lit aflame.

Just like he did after he died.

Now, my son whom I loved dearly, was truly gone.

He could never return.

And it was all my fault.

"You did this!" Thor accused, yelling at me as he spun to face me in his anger.

"I did." I said quietly, unable to deny.

"Why did you let him die? He was your son!" He screamed, pouring all of his anger, his resentment for me into those few words.

"I don't know." I said, unable to come up with a better answer.

"Then why?" Thor asked, breaking down completely, just as Loki's body collapsed fully into the fire.

Several minutes passed. Then they morphed into hours.

For hours we just stood there staring at each other, while we both tried to accept that someone we had both loved unconditionally was now gone forever.

I didn't realize how much it would hurt.

To lose a part of your soul like that isn't something that I would wish upon anyone.

"Oh my sons," I whispered, purposefully using the plural, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

And it sounded like Thor answered for both of them when he said, "I know."

"Can you ever forgive me?"

Silence.

"I don't know."

I don't know what more I expected.

I had killed my son, my flesh and blood, and there was nothing I could do to change that.

No matter how much I wish I could have.


End file.
